Page 34 of Carnival Monster

I clearly have issues as my chest clenches hearing him say that. It feels like a heartfelt declaration, even though I’m pretty sure that this man’s heart is black and dead, just like mine.

20

AURORA

“What are you up to tonight? Do you want to do something?” Charlotte asks on the walk back from work.

I tense, realizing I’ve got no viable excuse why we can’t do something other than the fact I’m meeting the psycho who hurt her for the third time in a row. Clearly, I need a psych eval because this isn’t normal.

“It’s been a tough day at work, and I just want to go to bed. Rain check?” I ask.

She purses her lips before nodding. “Fine, but you better be up to do something tomorrow, or I’m hauling your ass out of bed myself.”

I swallow hard and nod. “Agreed.” It’s not like I can let my plans with Gage constantly rule my life.

Charlotte hugs me, and I climb the steps to my apartment building. “See you tomorrow,” I call out.

“See you tomorrow, lazybones,” she teases before heading toward her apartment.

I feel immense guilt for not telling her the truth about Gage, but I just don’t know how to bring it up. Walking into my apartment, I strip and get into the shower. As the hot water cascades over my skin, I gaze up into the mirror over the sink, my back slightly turned. I notice my old, faded scars from years ago.

I shudder, knowing that this situation with Gage isn’t what started the dark thoughts or fucked up my psyche. It’s my past. Tracing my fingers over the fresh cuts from last night, I shiver at the memory of his blade against my flesh. It felt good. The pain, the sting, and being utterly at his mercy.

A small voice in my mind whispers that this isn’t normal. That I shouldn’t be getting off on being cut or hurt. But then I trace the cuts and scars on my inner thighs, wondering if Gage has noticed them. He must have when he traced them with his tongue.

I should go see a shrink and try to work through my trauma. The thought makes me laugh inwardly. It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve seen a therapist. After my mom caught my dad molesting me when I was eight, she dragged me to loads of therapists, desperate for me to talk about what happened.

But I couldn’t. I wouldn’t. Instead, I buried the trauma deep inside, locking it away in a dark corner of my mind. I learned to smile and pretend everything was okay, even as the wounds festered and grew.

Now, as an adult, I’ve found other ways to cope. If Gage noticed the scars, he didn’t mention them. He’s not the first person to cut my skin. I have cut myself for years as a coping mechanism, as well as chasing thrills and danger—anything to make me feel alive. I’ve found someone who mirrors that broken darkness.

Stepping out of the shower, I wrap a towel around myself. In the mirror, I notice my reflection. My eyes are bright, almost feverish, and the flush to my cheeks has nothing to do with the shower’s heat. The man I’m lusting after is a murderer. He said so himself, yet it draws me to him more.

The depths of my depravity should horrify me, but I don’t care. Not when Gage is waiting for me, ready to take me to darker places. He’s asked me to meet him at the forest’s edge tonight, and I can’t wait.

I rifle through my closet, searching for the perfect outfit for the carnival. I want something that will make Gage’s eyes darken with desire when he sees me. Finally, I settle on a tight black crop top to show off my midriff and a pair of high-waisted denim shorts that hug my curves in all the right places. I slip on my combat boots and grab my leather jacket before heading to the bathroom to do my hair.

I tease my long, dark locks into messy waves and apply a touch of makeup, smudging some dark eyeliner around my eyes for a smoky effect. I look at myself in the mirror and smile.

Walking to the carnival, the cool night air whips against my exposed skin, making me shiver. But it’s not just the cold that has me trembling. It’s the thought of seeing Gage again, of his hands on my body and his knife against my skin.

I’m so lost in my thoughts that I almost don’t notice Dan until I nearly bump into him. He’s standing near the carnival entrance, his arm around a cute guy I’ve never seen before.

“Aurora?” he says, his brow furrowing in confusion. “What are you doing here?”

I feel my cheeks flush as I realize I’ve been caught, and if he tells Charlotte, I’m screwed. “Oh, um, I’m actually meeting someone here,” I stammer.

Dan’s eyes widen in surprise. “Really? Who?”

I hesitate, not sure how much to reveal. “Just a guy I met recently,” I say, trying to sound casual. “He asked me to meet him here tonight.”

A slow smile spreads across Dan’s face. “Aurora, that’s great! I’m so happy for you. It’s about time you put yourself out there and tried to find a nice guy.”

Forcing a smile, I feel a twinge of guilt. A nice guy is probably the opposite of what I’ve found. If only he knew the man I was meeting. The darkness I’m drawn to.

“Yeah, um, can you not mention it to Charlotte?”

He raises a brow. “Haven’t you told her about your hot date?”

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